Elementary, Dear Robin
by FenrisWolfx
Summary: Sherlock has a new case: discover Batman's secret identity.


"Aren't you going to offer me a coffee?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow while Watson stared curiously at the boy; Richard John Grayson looked at the two British with disdain and yawned.

"Really, I need a coffee. Now."

"You're a child. Children shouldn't consume caffeine."

"I drink coffee since I was nine. My butler simply gave up trying to keep me away from this addiction."

"But-"

"Serve him a coffee, John", the detective cut him. Watson left the room with a frown, cursing under his breath. "What do you want?"

"This is not the way to treat a guest." Dick smirked.

"Client." Sherlock corrected.

"Guest", Dick smirked. "Clients don't drink coffee."

The detective decided to ignore, "Give me a case or leave. There are more important things that require my attention and I don't have time to spend with a rich kid who's bored and decides to annoy other persons for personal enjoyment."

"I am not", he said simply.

"You are not what?"

"Rich. I am not rich, my father is", he smirked.

Before Sherlock could say anything else, Watson walked back into the room carrying a glass of coffee. He put it on the coffee table in front of Dick, a frown on his face. Dick smiled and grabbed it feeling the smell of fresh coffee and took a sip of the drink, enjoying the taste.

"Hmm almost as good as the one Alfred prepares."

"Almost-"

"Now that you have your coffee can you please tell me what you came for? I don't think your daddy crossed an ocean just to you have coffee at the home of a detective."

"Leaving aside the fact that my _daddy_ isn't here, let's talk about business – I always wanted to say that", he crossed his legs. "I want you to discover the name of a person. Or rather, discover a secret identity. Can you do that?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes (who that kid thought he was?).

"Of course I can."

Watson looked at the detective and sighed, "What information do you have about that person?"

"The man I'm looking for is a real mystery. Nobody knows his name, where he lives, not even his face. He only appears at night, dressed entirely in black, with only part of his face off, making it impossible to recognize him. He's like an unorthodox superhero. He lives fleeing from the police and doing things on the margins of the law even though it is to help people who he don't even know."

"Noble... I guess." Watson said as Sherlock snorted. "Sorry about this, he really hates have no information to work with."

Dick nodded, "I have a photographic memory. Not only that, I can remember everything, anything I saw, heard, read, felt... I can remember the time, the place, even clothes of a person I saw. Is that useful?"

"Yes!" Watson said impressed.

"How was the woman who was in the lobby?" Sherlock decided to test it.

Dick put a hand on his chin, "She had blond hair, I would say sand blonde; stained – the root of the hair was black, I suppose she hasn't retouched it for three weeks. She was 5'6" feet. His skin was tan, the result of a few hours in the sun."

"Impressive-"

"She wore a white smock and a bell-bottom – that I must say being out of fashion – and brown sandals with blue flowers. She has a chapped mouth and it had a shade of pink, her eye shadow was the same color but slightly darker."

"Hmm describe the bar in front of the building."

"I think it is not necessary-"

"This is not a bar, it is a restaurant. It has two waiters and three waitresses, all dressed elegantly. It has about twelve tables covered with red cloths and each table has two chairs. Nine of the tables are occupied, a total of seventeen people –one of them looking at the clock probably waiting for his date. On the outside also has tables, covered with yellow cloth, all with a pitcher with daisies over them. A nice place to have breakfast", he smiled, "not mentioning that was playing 'Blackbird' by The Beatles. One of my favorite songs of all times"

"Impressive" Sherlock repeated the words of Watson with a certain twinkle in his eyes. "Do you have a picture or something that we can start?"

Dick nodded.

"Here," he gave his iPhone to the detective. "The photo is not high quality but I can swear that The Gotham Gazette would pay a pretty penny to have it."

Watson analyzed the photo, "I thought you had said that he lives fleeing from the police."

"He does," Dick shrugged, "but let's say we meet more than we'd like. You know, a rich, innocent boy in a city like Gotham is a magnet for kidnappers. There are weeks I meet with Batman more than with my father."

Watson's gaze softened, "I'm sorry."

Dick shrugged, "Bruce just wants to make the city a better place to live. He just doesn't realize that I'd live better with him around... Not accustomed with the position of father yet, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"Bruce adopted me after my family died in a tragic 'accident'", he made quotation marks in the air. "I'm the only survivor of the Flying Graysons."

"Batman saved you?"

"No. Batman wasn't there and even if he was, I doubt he would have done much. If I hadn't hesitated to jump of the platform at the last second, certainly I wouldn't be here now."

"Batman caught the killer?" Sherlock asked.

Dick nods, "And since that day I have been trying to discover the Batman's secret identity."

"Liar", Sherlock accused with a skeptical glance. Dick shrugged with a smile.

"The idea came a few days ago... Okay, yesterday."

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Remind me why I'm doing this, Watson."

"He pays well."

"I pay very well," Dick told Sherlock with a smirk. "And before you say something about using my dad's money without his permission, I wanna let you know that this is my money 'cause I was the one who stole it- Ops."

"Stole?" Watson asked alarmed.

"Well I didn't exactly _steal_ it..." Sherlock flashed him with a raised eyebrow. "I may or may not have diverted some money from LexCorp – the biggest Wayne Enterprises' rival – for a current account I got for my birthday." He said playing innocently with his fingers.

Sherlock sighed loudly.

"Let's forget it and go back to the case," Dick nodded. "When was the first time you saw Batman?"

"The _first_first time?" Sherlock nodded. "15th of July. Four years ago."

"What do you remember from that day?"

"What I remember? Everything. What I'd like to remember? Nothing." He laced his fingers staring at the empty cup of coffee. "It was a few weeks after my birthday; I was eight at this time. I lived with my family in a very famous circus: The International Traveling Haly Circus. We – my mother, father, uncle, aunt and cousins – were the biggest attraction of the circus: The Flying Graysons. We were the best and most amazing acrobats in the world, the only ones capable of doing a quadruple pirouette in the air with no safety net (which, thinking now, was the worst idea ever). That day I was really excited because I Haly told us that a very important Gotham celebrity would be in the audience; I woke up early and ran to the circus to play with Zítka, the coolest elephant in the world.

"When I arrived at the tent, Haly was talking with a man I had never seen. He was burly, not fat but muscular; he had dark hair, brown eyes and thick eyebrows; his face was full of expression marks and scars. He was really angry, his face was all red. He started to yell at Haly, saying that if he didn't pay for the 'protection' he offered something very bad would happen. At that time, I got scared and called the police. I couldn't speak English fluently then and the person on the other side of the line didn't understand what I was saying. My parents came a few moments later and the man in a suit noticed my presence. He stared at me with a cynical smile and extended his hand. My father pushed me behind him and my mother hugged me, my father told him to leave and the man repeated that he would only leave when they paid. My father said we would pay not one cent to him and he threatened us again. My father said he couldn't do anything and the man asked who would stop him – this time I decided to talk, even if it was a bluff.

"I showed the cell phone and told him I had called the police, at that same time a forced, deep voice said to have intercepted the call. A costumed man appeared, like, of nowhere and his simple presence was able to make the blackmailer leave with his tail between the legs. I took a good look for the 'hero': he was taller than my father, wearing a black armor with a cape and a mask covering the entire face minus the mouth and chin, above his head were two pointy ears. He identified himself as Batman and suggested we should be careful or even cancel the show of that night; my father denied instantly saying we didn't have to worry because the man was gone. As soon as he came, he disappeared; this was the first time I saw Batman or any superhero. This was around two o'clock and I had no idea that my life would become a disaster in less than seven hours."

Sherlock pondered, "Coincidence? I think not, my dear Watson. For all I've heard Gotham is a big city then Batman shouldn't be just 'going around there' at the moment. And for what my dearest Richard said, he doesn't work during the day." He scratched his chin. "You met him after this on this day?"

"Are you suggesting that Batman was 'stalking' someone from the circus?" Dick asked, amazed. "Well, whatever. I didn't see him any time that day. I find him just four months and fourteen days later; during that time occurred some strange twists in my life. In the first month, I had already passed by three orphanages and two awful dysfunctional families; nobody wanted to stay with me for long – I had nightmares at night and wake up sweating and screaming. The nightmares were all quite real, one of the disadvantages of photographic memory. In the second month, a well-dressed man appeared at the orphanage and said he wanted to adopt me. I was surprised, the other kids were surprised and the fat woman who took care of the orphanage looked even more surprised – she pointed at me wondering whether the man had absolute certainty and wasn 't drunk.

"In the end, I ended going to my 'room' where I packed the things that they let me take of the circus – some clothes, a book of romani tales, a stuffed elephant that looked like Zítka and a photo of my parents. I went back to the orphanage's entrance, hearing the other boys saying how lucky I was (my parents were dead, since when it is considered lucky?). A part of me thought it was just a joke of an eccentric billionaire or some way to get publicity, but there was no TV camera or anything outside, in fact the media was just finding about my existence four months and fourteen days after that day.

"It was 29th of November that Bruce planned a gala party to introduce to the world his new ward, Richard John Grayson, the only survivor of the Flying Graysons. I smiled and greeted everyone who looked important, just as Bruce instructed me to do, but it all went downhill when a terrorist broke into the party and took me as hostage, putting a gun in my head and demanding an absurd amount of money from Bruce to let me go. I knew I wasn't worth all that money then I simply waited Bruce said that he wouldn't pay. I looked around the hall for Bruce but I didn't find him, was as if he had disappeared. Unfortunately, the terrorist noticed that too and held me by the neck strongly – I can still feel his fingers grabbing it. He shouted that if Bruce Wayne didn't show up in the count of ten he would shoot me and every single person in the hall and then started a countdown. When it was at number three, with trembling finger ready to blow my brains out, a bat-a-rang (a type of mini boomerang in the form of a bat) hit his hand making the gun fall. Without thinking two times I kicked the gun away and tried to kick the man too but Batman had already done that.

"The police came a few moments later and tried to arrest Batman, even if it wasn't he who had tried to kill me. After that day I saw Batman in total twenty-one times, twenty of them in attempts of kidnapping and one for coffee."

"Coffee?"

"A man needs his coffee," Dick smiled.

"You're telling me that this man goes around saving people," Dick nodded, "and for some reason, he has a fixation on you. Right?"

"Yep."

"Hmm why I feel like you're hiding something?" Sherlock massaged his temples with his fingertips. "That man touched you in some strange way?"

"Sherlock!" Watson cried.

"He's hiding something from me and I have to know what it is!" he said infantile.

"Sorry," Dick interrupted, "it's something very personal."

"He touched you," Sherlock pointed out. Watson opened his mouth to yell again but Dick's scream cut him.

"He did NOT touch me. He would NEVER do that."

"You sound as whether you knew him very personally," teased Sherlock.

Dick rolled his eyes, "you shouldn't treat a client like this, Holmes."

"You're a guest. Clients don't drink coffee."

* * *

Sherlock looked at the notes he made during the night after talking with the thirteen-year old boy. Batman was someone interesting, no doubt. He reread for the ninth time, normally he didn't take notes but this time the case, which wasn't a case in fact, intrigued him. A whole day had passed away, he had no idea of the vigilante of Gotham's identity, and something was telling, or rather, screaming of his face that Richard was hiding something crucial to solve the case.

Suddenly the smell of fritter invaded his nostrils. He got up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen hurried; John Watson was in front of the stove wearing a white apron, making scrambled eggs. Sherlock walked to the breakfast table and licked his lips when realized he had eaten anything since lunch the previous day.

"Don't dare to eat anything of this table. It's all for Dick."

"Who?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Richard. Everything I prepared is for him, not you." He picked up a milk carton in the fridge and dumped into a glass.

"You never prepared my breakfast, John," Sherlock spoke dismissively.

"G'morning" Dick spoke between yawns as he entered the kitchen. Sherlock stared at him with wide eyes.

"Why is he wearing my clothes?"

Watson shrugged, "I couldn't let him sleep in the same clothes he used all day."

"Where are my clothes?" Dick asked quietly. Watson pointed toward the main bathroom of the house. "Thank you."

Sherlock waited a few minutes to speak.

"Damn, Watson, why don't you just marry him?"

"Of course" he rolled his eyes. "Look, we spent all night talking. He told me of his nightmares, dreams, every memory he had since birth – he even remembers the day and exact time he took his first steps. He told me his fears and insecurities, and how his friends never seem to realize when something is wrong unless he speaks. His friends don't know where he lives, what he likes nor even his birthday; they don't know how he really is behind this frontage playful and of quick responses. They don't even know the color of his eyes! Everything because his father – a man who hardly appears at home – wants to protect him from the world. In one night, I found out more about this little guy than any of his friends or family did. Sometimes I even thought he saw that Batman as a father figure and-"

"Repeat that, Watson" Sherlock cut him off.

"What? That he sees Batman as a father figure?"

"Exactly," Sherlock's smile grew and his face brightened like a child on Christmas Day. "Elementary, my dear Watson. How could I not see that? It was so obvious!"

"What was so obvious?" Dick asked coming out of the bathroom, already with his clothes and his hair slicked back.

Sherlock stared at him with a smile from ear to ear and that only scared the acrobat.

"Is he drunk?" discretely asked to Watson.

"Not sure," John shrugged. "It is possible to get drunk with cow's milk?"

Dick shook his head, "Unless you're an idiot. So yes, he is drunk."

* * *

"When was the last time you and Batman met?"

"Kidnapping," he said simply. "Three months ago, I was going to James Kennedy's house, a classmate, to finish a science project. We were in the back seat of his limo when the driver started going in the wrong direction. I noticed and told so, but he said it was just a shortcut. I agreed even with a bad feeling, Jimmy turned and spoke that the man wasn't his driver, suddenly the limo's doors were opened and four armed men appeared. They threw Jimmy out of the vehicle as he shouted that he wasn't involved with anything. The men took me to an abandoned warehouse on the pier and there they called Bruce demanding money."

"And Batman appeared."

"Yes."

"How Batman knew where you were?"

"I dunno," he scratched his chin, "I think I'm too adorable to lose sight of."

"No, you're not." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What happened to James Kennedy?"

"He was arrested." Watson shook his head. "It was found that he and his father – a former employee of Wayne Enterprises – had armed the kidnapping to get money and save their family from bankruptcy. Batman insisted that they were arrested for various charges such as robbery, kidnapping, embezzlement and inappropriate conduct at the company."

Sherlock smiled.

"I know you haven't told me something, not sure if intentionally or not. That something or rather, somebody that is the key point to discover Batman's secret identity. You said Batman has a sidekick, right?"

Dick's smile faltered as he nodded.

"His sidekick is a bird, cheerful, lively, free... As poetic as it sounds, why would a night creature have a bird as his sidekick? Unless this beautiful little bird had a dark past similar to the bat's that he didn't share with nobody – well, almost nobody" he looked at Watson with a side-glance. "Think and tell me if I'm wrong: boy lives happily with his family, his family is taken from him. The murder goes unpunished; boy wants revenge. Boy becomes a vigilante; boy doesn't want anyone else to feel the same way he felt. Boy grows and wears a mask to protect those he loves. Boy becomes a man and finds a little boy with the same story as his. Man doesn't want to let anyone else into his life but boy gets. Man is afraid of losing the boy and makes him also wear a mask."

"Not wrong," Dick whispered.

"Man and boy have a strong connection as father and son. They both care for each other and love each other even having no blood relation." Sherlock smiles. "Batman wasn't at the circus on 15th of July merely by coincidence; Bruce would watch the show and wanted to greet the stars. A thirteen-year old boy couldn't invade one of the world's safest computers without training. Batman has armor, cars, computers, resources, that is, lots and lots of money; Bruce is a billionaire who doesn't want the boy to get hurt. Batman insists that every person who has touched the boy pay for everything they had done. Batman wouldn't save a rich kid twenty times from the hands of kidnappers when there are countless crimes that need his attention. Moreover, definitely Batman would _never_ drink coffee with a kid who wasn't his son. Bruce Wayne is Batman and you, Richard Grayson, is Robin."

Watson looked stunned at the boy. How could he didn't notice?

"You're right." He smiled. "You truly deserve the title of world's greatest detective."

"Now that leads me to a simple question: why did you come here?"

Dick got up from the couch and shrugged, "I was bored. Also, I was wondering if someone would find out."

Sherlock smirked.

"That doesn't mean I'm not telling if someone needs my services to discover Batman's secret identity."

"Well then I must give you a good amount of money to keep your mouth closed. Don't worry, Lex Luthor is swimming in money so I don't think he'll bother to share with the less fortunate", Dick said as he walked to the door. "The coffee was delightful, John."

Watson stared at the door until it closed up and sighed, "That kid was fascinating."

"Why don't you marry him?" Sherlock teased as he threw himself on the couch.

"Maybe I should", John spoke on his return to the kitchen.

"Don't you dare, Watson."

End

* * *

NA: How was it? I'd like to say I'm sorry 'cause English is not my first language. If someone fluent with free time want to beta this story send me a PM, I'd be very very grateful. Hope you enjoyed.


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